Surprise Visits
by part-timeslayer
Summary: Prompt: "You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen."-via toxixpumpkin


Shaw reached under her pillow to grasp her gun, and slowly sat up. She could hear someone by the door, and from the grunts and thuds that they were making, they were apparently trying to carry something heavy into her apartment. She didn't know why anyone would do that, she did however know that she did not like it at all. Shaw grabbed a compact off of her dresser, opened it, and put it just outside of her doorway to see if she could make out anything down the hall. It worked.

She groaned, let her head fall back to hit the wall behind her with a dull thud, and dropped her gun to her side, though didn't completely put it away. Shaw pushed off the wall with a huff, and strode to the kitchen, where her intruder had made themselves very comfortable.

"Root." Shaw bit out.

"Sameen." Root answered, drawing the name out affectionately.

"What do you think you're doing here?" Shaw asked, eyes narrowed.

"...Standing?"

"Root."

Root didn't bother looking up from where she was starting up a pot of coffee as she responded.

"I needed a place to crash. I'm on the lamb." Root said flippantly, waving a hand airily in Shaw's general direction.

As soon as she finished speaking Shaw heard the blaring of police cars driving right by her apartment.

"What did you do now?" Shaw asked, trying to seem more annoyed than curious.

She was a little more than interested in knowing what brought Root to her door in the middle of the night, with a giant suitcase, and what sounded like an army of officers on her tail, but there was no reason that Root needed to know that. Root turned to face her, eyes wide, and her hand resting over her heart.

"Me?"

Shaw rolled her eyes, and looked at Root expectantly.

"Technically, I didn't kill the guy." Root said with a shrug.

Shaw furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, trying to puzzle out what exactly Root meant by that, before realization dawned on her. She looked at the large suitcase that was laying on its side under her table.

"Root. Is there a deceased man in that suitcase? The suitcase that you brought into my current home."

"Unfortunately, you are, as always, correct."

Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose, and breathed out slowly.

"Why?"

Root shrugged.

"She said to."

"The Machine told you to bring a corpse to my place? And you didn't bother asking why. Of course you didn't." Shaw said, brushing hair out of her face with her free hand, and putting her gun on the counter with the other.

Root looked at her expectantly for a moment, before seeming to realize that Shaw didn't really have anything else to say about the situation that she had found herself in. She thought about offering to help with the body, but Root would have asked her if she was needed for more than a place to hideout, and between The Machine and Root, they could probably figure out how to dispose of a body just fine without Shaw getting more involved than she already was. Plus cleaning up a body wasn't anywhere near as fun as shooting people, so it wasn't like she would be missing out on anything.

Root reached into the cabinet and pulled out a mug, and poured herself a cup of coffee familiarly, as though she'd been Shaw's apartment a million times, before offering to make one for Shaw.

Shaw contemplated just turning around and walking away, she still had time for a few hours more of sleep before her shift at a the make up counter, but quickly dismissed the idea. Doing so would mean temporarily giving Root full reign over her apartment. There wasn't actually a lot for Root to get into, but Shaw wasn't one to underestimate Root's ability to cause trouble. She accepted the mug.

Shaw leaned against the counter, and didn't react when instead of staying where she was like a normal person, Root followed her, and stood about an inch away from having them completely pressed together. If Shaw turned her head towards Root their faces would be touching. Root was pushing boundaries, but not actually touching or crossing them. Shaw stared resolutely forward, and ignored Root's gaze.

"Nice outfit Sameen."

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Roughly two months later, Shaw was headed to her apartment right around 5 pm. It became obvious that something was wrong when she went to unlock her door, only to find that it was already unlocked. Shaw never would have left it that way, which meant that someone else was in there. She pushed open the door quietly, and was immediately greeted by,

"Honey! You're home!"

Root. In her apartment. With a large suitcase. Again.

Shaw clenched her jaw to keep herself from groaning aloud.

"You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen."

"You say it like it's a thing."

"This is the second time you've done this, Root. That makes it a thing." Shaw pointed out.

"Really?" Root crinkled her nose 'innocently' in 'confusion,' before she 'remembered' the last time that she was at Shaw's place.

"Oh yeah, I can't believe I forgot about that. You'd think I'd recall something like that, but I guess when you've shoved as many people into suitcases as I have, it all, understandably, starts to blur together a little." Root responded, lifting her arms up in a 'well what can you do' gesture.

Shaw raised her eyebrows and shook her head.

"Just make sure you clean it up when you leave."

"Fine. I will make sure not to leave a trace behind, and to take my belongings with me. Happy?"

"No."

Root twitched a little, restlessly, for a moment not sure what to say, but seeming uncomfortable with the silence. From her spot spread out on the only chair in Shaw's kitchen, she looked at Shaw.

"So, I'm going to need to be here for a while, want me to order something to eat?"

Shaw paused, looked at the suitcase, then back to Root. She shrugged.

"Make it something light."


End file.
